


but now i see

by aleta_vera



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: I am here for gentle longing and Instagram stalking, I haven't written in years and now I have feelings about an anime??, M/M, Some very very light angst, THIS IS NOT VICTOR/PHICHIT EW GROSS, Victor just admires Phichit's social media presence okay, Victor's POV, Victor/Yuuri - Freeform, Yakov doesn't know about the internet, in between scenes, set throughout show, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11770875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleta_vera/pseuds/aleta_vera
Summary: 4 times Victor Nikiforov gets down on his knees because of Phichit Chulanont(+1 time Phichit returns the favor)Not exactly what it says on the tin.





	but now i see

**Author's Note:**

> Have some of my feelings about a sports anime I guess?????????
> 
> Me: no fear  
> AO3: you have to use HTML  
> Me: one fear

On the skating rinks of Russia there are only two gods. The God of Ice who is mother and father both, wrath and joy, punishing and nurturing in turn. And then there is Phichit Chulanont.

This second god is younger. He has far fewer believers to his name, but is no less powerful.

Victor Nikiforov, 27, living legend, is his first disciple. 

Three days after the most exhilarating competition banquet of his life Victor is aimlessly skimming his Instagram feed, lounging on the bleachers in the St. Petersburg rink and fantasizing about Katsuki Yuuri’s tree trunk thighs. He double taps Chris’s photo from his flight home, a dreamy sunrise shot out an airplane window, screenshots Mila’s newest photo of Yuri Plistesky absolutely demolishing a sandwich in the rink break room. He’s about to close the app because he can hear Yakov’s shouting really ramping up, when he sees it.

Under Mila’s photo is a comment Victor’s eyes automatically zoom in on. 

_**phichit+chu: is this that little punk?? i could take him!!!! @ykatsuki92** _

Victor’s finger only shakes a little as he presses the linked account handle. In the distance Yakov screams something but it fades into white noise as Victor realizes he’s found Yuuri’s account. There are three pictures on it: a small poodle -confirming Victor has indeed found true love-, a very poorly filtered shot of a fresh ice rink, and a zoomed in shot of some kind of rice-based meal.

Yuuri is not visible in any of them. 

Victor curses his luck, hovers over the follow button debating how desperate he’ll look, but at the last second thumbs the back arrow instead. He’s found Yuuri but the most recent photo is already 40 weeks old. The tagged comment implies that Yuuri at least checks his notifications. On a whim Victor clicks into the account that tagged Yuuri. 

Yakov is striding around the rink now, steam almost visibly rising off his head, eyes bulging. Victor doesn’t see him because his eyes are locked onto his screen. He launches upright on the bleacher, whacking his shin on the next stair down and falling to his knees. He has struck gold.

Phichit Culanont has an extremely active account, excellent selfies and lovingly arranged aesthetic shots interspersed with photo after photo of Katsuki Yuuri. There he is in group shots, skating alone on a brightly lit rink in rumpled training clothes, doubled over on a twin bed covered in hamsters and laughing so hard he’s crying, close ups of his blush as Phichit crams their faces into the Instagram square frame. And treasure of all treasures, a screenshot off Snapchat of Yuuri with the dog filter, arm hooked through Phichit’s in the back of a minivan.

Victor has seen the light. He punches the follow button so hard his screen groans alarmingly. 

He must have missed Yakov’s final approach because suddenly there is a hand clutching his collar and lurching him to his feet. “Twenty suicides, Vitya! How many times have I told all of you there will be no phones in practice! Get off the Facebook and get your head in the game -Europeans will be here before you know it!” Yakov shouts in his ear, attempting to drag Victor down the bleacher steps. 

Victor shakes out of Yakov’s grip to grab his gear bag, smiling so wide he can feel the skin around his lips stretching. He races down to the opening of the rink, waving his phone at Mila and Georgi, who hang over the half wall. “I’ve found him! Look, look! This Phichit Chulanont is his rinkmate and he has captured the beauty and grace of my Yuuri! You all have to follow him too!”

Mila shrieks, Georgi is already snatching up his own phone from the boards, and Yuri Plisetsky sails past to give him the finger. 

“And shut up about Katsuki! He is not even real competition!” Yakov thrunders.

Victor impulsively likes Phichit’s latest selfie. Truly, he is hashtag blessed.

~~~~~~

The next time Phichit Chulanont brings Victor to his knees is right before Worlds a few months later. In the interim Victor has won Nationals and Europeans, modeled for a spread in GQ, read the third Harry Potter book out loud to Makkachin in his empty flat, lost almost all hope of Yuuri sliding into his DMs, and stopped smiling entirely unless prompted by Yakov.

He has strategically liked only five of Phichit’s photos since he started following him, only one of which starred Yuuri. He has screenshots of all the rest.

Slumped in a hard plastic chair in a back corner of the rink break room, Victor idly snaps all of his dietician-approved celery stick snacks into very small pieces. He throws the pieces in the direction of the garbage can one by one. None of them make it in.

“Hey, asshole, I followed that stupid Phichichi-whatever account last night,” Yuri Plisetsky says, slouching into the chair across from Victor. Across the room by the vending machine Mila, Anya, Georgi, and a few ice dancers perk up. They are now all apostles of the god of social media, though only Anya has met Phichit in real life.

“Oh?” Says Victor. The last celery stub lands in Yuri’s hair. 

“Ugh, quit it. Yeah,” Yuri pouts, like celery in his hair is his biggest problem in life. “That dumb other Yuri finally gave up and retired, huh? Good, I would have slaughtered him next year anyway.”

Before the words can even sink in, before Victor’s hand can even twitch towards his phone, Yuri is kicking his chair back so hard it skitters over into the next table and he storms back out of the room like he didn’t just kick Victor in the figurative balls.

“What the fuck,” whispers Mila. “What the fuck?”

“Oh no,” Anya already has her phone out, shaking her head.

 _What the fuck_ , Victor silently agrees. He punches his lock code in the wrong way twice before he can bring Instagram up. And there it is, launching right to the top of his queue the second the app refreshes. 

A photo at an airport, Yuuri crushed between a crying Phichit and a grim Celestino Cialdini, with dark circles under his eyes and a heavy winter coat zipped up to his chin.

_**phichit+chu: @ykatsuki92 say it ain’t so! my baby boy is leaving me & going home. i know the ice hasn’t seen the last of u yet my son.** _

__The break room is silent now. Georgi still has his arm out in the air from waving the remote to mute the TV. Victor stares at the picture until his eyes blur over._ _

__“Vitya,” Mila starts, gently pushing back her chair. “I’m sure Phichit is exaggerating, he-“_ _

__“No.” Victor cuts her off. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”_ _

__He rises at a very normal pace, he thinks. Not slowly like Mila, not harshly like little Yuri. Composed. Neutral. Not like his dreams are being ripped out of his suddenly clammy hands._ _

__“No, it’s fine.” He repeats himself. Strides right past Mila’s reaching hand, past Georgi’s gaping face, past the wide-eyed ice dancers. Past the doorway, past the locker room, past the physical therapy room. Past Yakov’s office._ _

__“No, it’s fine.” He says again, when he is crumpled on his knees in a dark hallway at the very back of the rink complex._ _

__He stares at the picture. Screenshots it. Very carefully does not think about how just this morning he was sprawled in his bed in the buttery morning light, looking forward to Worlds for the first time in years because Worlds meant Tokyo meant Japan meant being maybe just a little closer to Yuuri._ _

___Phichit is very kind_ , Victor believes. His knees ache and his forehead scrapes again the cool cinderblock wall. _Phichit is merciful. He warned me.__ _

__Now Worlds is just Worlds. Next season is just next season. Skating is once again just skating. Winning is just winning. Smiling is just smiling, and none of it needs to be for Victor or for his hopes or for anyone in particular._ _

__He is Victor Nikiforov. He wins Worlds. He smiles. He skates._ _

__There are no more pictures of Yuuri on Phichit’s Instagram._ _

__There is only the bright screen of his camera roll in the dark of a hotel room, only a single shuddering sob and the very quiet thunk of a gold medal being knocked off a night stand._ _

__At least Phichit warned him._ _

__~~~~~~~~_ _

__Victor drops to his knees in the locker room of the Ice Castle. Yuuri peers around the divider wall to the showers and rolls his eyes._ _

__“Honestly, Victor, it’s just some dumb photos from a college party a few years ago. I don’t see what you’re so upset over.” He disappears back around the wall._ _

___Upset? Upset?_ Victor is in bliss. He has ascended. He is going to buy Phichit a phone with the highest storage capabilities and best camera features if he is ever privileged enough to meet him. _ _

__Already preserved for posterity by 15 screenshots, backed up to Victor’s iCloud, and emailed to himself are three pictures freshly posted to Phichit’s Insta._ _

__On this auspicious #ThrowbackThursday Phichit has seen fit to deliver the shining glory of Yuuri clad only in microscopic booty shorts and his Team Japan jacket, head tipped back to shotgun a beer that is poured mostly down his chest instead of his throat. The photos are a linear progression as far as Victor can tell, the next showing Yuuri yelling at someone off camera and Phichit giggling in the corner of the frame with a shocked hand over his mouth. And the final masterpiece, Victor’s new home screen, is Yuuri standing on a kitchen island, beer in hand, back leg extended in a technically precise vertical split, and a very rude finger extended to the camera._ _

__Victor promptly slams the like button, comments 18 glittery heart emojis, and sends the screenshot to the Team Russia group chat._ _

__Over the sound of the running shower, Victor can hear Yuuri still talking about this miracle._ _

__“Really, I can’t believe Phichit posted those! I’m mortified. That dumb jock had it coming though!” Yuuri calls._ _

__Now sitting on the locker room floor, Victor feels as if before these pictures he was blind, and now he can see. “Dumb jock?” He echoes automatically, furiously trying to communicate to Mila via text that _ **yes** , Yuuri is still that flexible and thank you for noticing.__ _

__“Yeah,” the water shuts off and Yuuri emerges in a cloud of steam. “He told me figure skating wasn’t a real sport and then I told him if I could put my legs behind my head before he could finish his beer he would have to fight me. I think. It was getting a little rowdy at that point.”_ _

__Victor’s brain short circuits._ _

__By the time he is back online and surreptitiously checking for drool on his chin, Yuuri is dressed again and offering him a hand up. “How’d you even see those pictures anyway?” He asks, side eyeing Victor’s phone. “Do you follow Phichit?”_ _

__“Uh,” Victor manages, suavely._ _

__“Because he has way worse photos of me so I’ll have to remind him of what blackmail I have on him before he gets any ideas about posting more!” Yuuri laughs, shouldering his bag._ _

___Worse???????_ Victor’s brain supplies, images crashing through his mind like a freight train. _ _

__Later that night, when Yuuri is safely sleeping down the hall and Victor has finally won the great Yuuri’s Best Angles debate in the group chat, he opens a DM to Phichit._ _

___**Hi we’ve never met but I’m Victor Nikiforov and I’m a huge fan. I was wondering if you have more…** _ _ _

__~~~~~~~_ _

__“Ciao Ciao, smile! No, turn your head more, that’s not your angle!”_ _

__Victor is finally in the presence of the Almighty. Phichit made it to the Cup of China and made plans to see Yuuri the second his plane touched down. The two skaters and their coaches are all crammed into a booth at a small hot pot restaurant Phichit found good ratings for online._ _

__Phichit is trying to find the best angle for Celestino, who is passed out on the table. Victor is giddy to be out with Yuuri at his first GPF event of the season, maybe a little drunk, and fascinated to see the master at work._ _

__“That’s very nice,” he slurs, kneeling on the seat for a better view and waving an unsteady finger at Phichit’s close up photo of Celestino’s snoring face. “What filter will you use?”_ _

__Yuuri is resting right up against Victor's side, he is full of delicious food and amazing drinks, his legs don’t ache for the first time in memory, and Victor is suddenly struck by how happy he is._ _

__“I click through all of them until I find the perfect fit,” Phichit says, already pointing the camera elsewhere. “I try not to let one style define me.”_ _

__Yuuri giggles, shaking his head. “I don’t understand how you two can care about all that stuff so much. What even is a filter?”_ _

__Victor gasps. “Yuuri, you are my favorite, but I cannot let you insult the Creator in my house!” He snuggles Yuuri a little in punishment and vaguely wonders where his shirt went._ _

__Phichit is howling, laughing too hard to hold his camera up. “If you told me a year ago that Victor Nikiforov would be my number one fan I’d have laughed until I died.”_ _

__“You still might!” Victor observes, watching Phichit’s drink get knocked right into Celestino’s lap as Phichit’s laughing head thunks onto the table. “But really, everyone loves you back home!”_ _

__Yuuri and Phichit both give him a questioning look, but Victor suddenly remembers that dark hallway the day he thought Yuuri retired, his phone open to Phichit’s page in his shaking hands. He tugs Yuuri practically into his lap and ignores the rest of the world for a little bit._ _

__Two of the younger skaters appear next to the booth. Phichit is brandishing his phone again with a maniacal glint in his eye, but Victor absolutely cannot be bothered because he finally has Yuuri right where he wants him. Namely, in his lap and squirming._ _

__The camera clicks in the background only make Victor’s smile hidden in Yuuri’s neck stretch wider._ _

__“Make sure you get a good one of me and my Yuuri,” he instructs Phichit solemnly. “Post one so everyone can like it.”_ _

__“Oh don’t worry,” Phichit grins down benevolently. “I have plenty of you and your Yuuri!”_ _

__The next morning Victor gets a text from an unknown number that he saves under “Phichit, King of Kings” in his contacts._ _

___**OMG THANK U!!!!!! MY FOLLOWER COUNT DOUBLED OVERNIGHT!!** _ _ _

__~~~~~~~_ _

__“Yuuri you have to look at the camera in a few of these,” Phichit moans, swiping through this drafts quickly. It’s the morning after the GPF exhibition skate. “You can’t just stare at Victor with that dopey grin through the whole shoot!”_ _

__“Watch me,” grumbles Yuuri, gripping Victor’s hand a little tighter._ _

__Victor blinks very rapidly. He won’t have red eyes in his engagement photos._ _

__“Okay, okay,” Phichit says. He doesn’t sound very put out. “I want to do a couple with the cathedral in the background. Think you guys can find the exact spot it happened?”_ _

__Yuuri nods, tugging Victor along with him down the street. Victor is incandescent. He is lighter than air. Yuuri’s ring rubbing against his on every other step sends sparklers of joy shooting around just under his skin until the only way to let them out is to snatch Yuuri’s hand up for a kiss._ _

__The camera clicks._ _

__“Aw! This is absolutely _sickening_. I’m so happy for you two. My followers are gonna lose their shit,” Phichit bobs along in their wake. _ _

__They round the corner and suddenly they’re there. There is no choir this time, it’s the middle of the day, and there are more tourists about. It doesn’t matter. Despite himself, Victor feels his eyes mist up._ _

__“Okay you giant saps, wipe your eyes. Yuuri, you too! I saw that sniffle!” Phichit looks around for a good angle._ _

__Victor tugs Yuuri closer, wraps an arm around his waist. Yuuri thumbs away a stray tear from Victor’s cheek._ _

__Under his breath, Yuuri whispers for only Victor to hear. “Tell me something for good luck.”_ _

__Out of the corner of his eye, Victor can see Phichit down on his knees, angling to get the wall of the church in the shot. Victor rubs a few circles on Yuuri’s hipbone, out of the camera’s sight._ _

__“Sure,” he whispers back. “I’ll say something you won’t even have to think about. From now on, let me show you the life and love I can honestly say I like best.”_ _

__They both smile. The camera snaps._ _

__“That’s the one!” Phichit cheers._ _

_**phichit+chu: @ykatsuki92 & @v-nikiforov with their GPF gold!! ;) #engaged** _

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh.... hey. Can't believe it's 2017 and I'm out here writing fic again. Truly a #ThrowbackThursday for the books.
> 
> This is very very very unbeta'd because I got of the shower and this whole thing just happened in one sitting. Also I don't know anyone in this fandom. ALSO I DON'T KNOW HTML FIGHT ME (or teach me how to do it).


End file.
